


I Really Can't Stay

by orphan_account



Category: Eyewitness (US TV)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Mild Angst, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A snowstorm traps Philip at Lukas' house for the night, and makes every want of his come true.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. This is the first fic I've ever written for a ship that isn't klaine. I am terrified. 
> 
> This isn't really based on any certain episode, isn't placed anywhere in the timeline, and is spoiler-free, so even if you aren't caught up you should be able to read this no problem. Just two boys together in a snowstorm!! Thanks to [Michele](http://kirksjames.tumblr.com/) for reading this over beforehand!

“There’s no way they’ll let me.”

It’s said to the mirror, to the person in the reflection of the mirror, to Lukas, who is standing with his back against the bathroom door, blocking it from anyone who might try to come in.

“Don’t ask. Just sneak out.”

Philip continues to lean over the sink, still staring into the mirror, at himself and at the boy behind him, wanting so badly to say yes. “You want me to break Gabe and Helen’s trust, just so I can eat mac and cheese . . . with you?”

He had been excited at first, like he so often is, to get a text from Lukas. A text that holds a promise, a secret. _meet me at the bathrooms in the science hall when second period starts?_

He had been excited even when Lukas showed up five minutes later than he was supposed to, and he had been excited when Lukas closed that door and stood in front of it and gave Philip one of those shining and bright smiles that lies by saying _there’s nothing wrong._

His excitement had wavered, however, when Lukas had said _‘My dad’s going to be out of town this weekend.’_

_‘Come over. I’ll like, make dinner or something.’_

_‘Please?’_

It had wavered because, as much as he craves that promise, he hates being the secret.

He hates the reality that no matter what they are or what they do or what they feel, he will always be a secret, and he will always be nothing, and the only time he can be on the receiving end of those shining and bright smiles is when the door is closed and everyone else is busy.

That if he wants to be with Lukas, it has to be when his dad is out and they can be hidden.

Lukas looks around their surroundings, pausing, listening, then finally walks over the small distance between them until he can put a hand on Philip’s shoulder, can lean in and whisper, “Come on. It’ll be romantic.”

Philip looks down at his hands, the sink, the tap that he suddenly wants to turn on and use to drown out everything else, the reality of all this. “That’s not the first word that comes to mind.”

“Please?” It’s the way Lukas sounds, underneath the promises and the secrets, so scared and young and desperate. The exact way that Philip feels whenever Lukas so much as looks at him. “We can hook up the N64. I’ll let you use the good controller.”

He wants to say yes. Whatever Lukas asks him for of course he wants to say yes, but it’s what he’s saying yes to . . . it’s everything he should be saying no to.

If this all goes wrong, if they regret this, if one day Lukas looks at him like the mistake he feels like and feels disgust and hatred towards him - if he says yes to this, then he’s saying yes to the chance of that.

He should say no.

He should stop this.

He should leave this room and never look back and never meet his eyes again and refuse to be a secret.

But then Lukas is turning him, grabbing onto his shoulders and making him face him and then he’s leaning down to rest their foreheads together, brushing the tip of his nose against the tip of Philip’s, in a motion that’s so gentle it would shock the whole world if they knew.

So what he should say isn’t what he does say.

“Okay,” he sighs, eyes closed, believing in the touch of their bodies together instead of the secret. “It’s a date.”

Lukas laughs softly, the sound and feel of it calming against his skin. “Sure. A date.”

-

He’s never been on a date before.

He tells himself it’s not really a date anyway, because they aren’t - they aren’t anything that would go on a date. They’re just two boys. Two people. They aren’t even friends.

That still didn’t stop him from spending thirty minutes in the bathroom making sure every wave of his hair was waved perfectly, but he’s realizing now, as he pushes his bike through a thick blanket of snow, that those thirty minutes were kind of pointless.

He’s soaked through his skin, freezing, and almost close to miserable.

Not quite though, because when Lukas’ house comes into view he can’t help but feel excited again, feel giddy, can’t help but quicken his pace until he can ditch his bike and climb up the steps to the door.

He stands there in the snow and knocks, his heart quickening in those last few seconds before Lukas is there, opening the door and smiling.

It’s those last few seconds after he opens the door that puts a damper on Philip’s heart. Lukas looks past Philip’s shoulder, over his head, scanning the area even though there isn’t another soul around, just a million snowflakes.

It’s fine. It’s one of the reasons he should have said no, but it’s fine.

“Hey,” Lukas says, grabbing Philip by the zipper of his hoodie and pulling him in. “You made it.”

He doesn’t smile at him until the door is closed, until they’re safe inside, but when he does smile - Philip’s legs feel suddenly weak, shaky, and his heart is back to racing.

it's

“This better be the most kickass mac and cheese I have ever tasted,” he teases, wasting no time in reaching back for Lukas, grabbing at his shirt and pulling him closer.

“I can’t make any promises.” Lukas looks down at him, blue eyes taking all of him in. He frowns a bit, bringing a hand up to swipe at Philip’s hair, dusting off the dozens of snowflakes that stuck to him. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there.”

Philip glances towards the door. “Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna get my bike home. Maybe it’ll calm down later.”

Lukas smiles. “Yeah, maybe.”

-

It doesn’t.

But that’s the least of his worries right now.

The house is so big and echoey, he can hear every word louder and longer. It all bounces off the walls and back to him, making every word more pronounced, making them mean more.

He doesn’t mind. In here, they’re safe.

He can say whatever he wants, and nobody but the walls will hear it.

Well.

Nobody but the walls and Lukas.

He comes up behind him, standing at the stove, and tries in vain to hook his chin over his shoulder as he wraps his arms around his waist. He can’t quite reach comfortably, so he settles for this, for resting his cheek against his shoulder blade.

“You sure you’ve made mac and cheese before?” he asks, cautiously peeking around Lukas’ body.

“Uh, yeah, do I look stupid?” Lukas asks, giving him a confused, dark look.

“Because I think you’re supposed to wait until the water’s boiling before you put the noodles in.”

He’s smiling as he says it, but Lukas still sighs and huffs and hands off the ladle to him. “Fine then, Gordon Ramsay, you do it.”

He takes over, and the fact that Lukas never leaves him, stays pressed closed to him, well it makes cooking that much harder, but it’s also - it’s also nice. How it could be. How it . . .

How it should be, but never will be.

“I, uh, I ate a lot of this growing up,” he says distantly, laughing a little, just to say something. “It was the only thing I knew how to make on my own.”

He doesn’t mean anything bad by it, it’s just conversation, just words being said to start bridging all their gaps, but Lukas takes it as something else, judging by how still and stiff he goes.

“Oh shit, Philip,” he says exasperatedly, taking a step back. “Shit. I’m sorry. We can - we can make something else, uh, we have Poptarts or -”

He’s quick to turn, quick to put his hands on Lukas, quick to offer his brightest smile and his easiest laugh. “Hey, hey, no, it’s fine,” he says soothingly, waiting for Lukas to look down and lock eyes with him. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s fine. I like it. Add enough ketchup and it tastes just like home.”

Lukas does look down at him then, immediately frowning, grimacing, sticking his tongue out. “You’re kidding. Ketchup?”

“It’s good!”

“You city kids are so weird.”

Philip grins, the real kind, alive and relieved, and pulls down at the collar of Lukas’ shirt until they’re level with each other and kissing. Lukas puts a hand on his hip, another along the side of his face, backing him up against the counter and making that kiss deeper and deeper and more and more -

And if the mac and cheese is slightly overcooked, because both boys might have forgotten to pay any attention to it, because both boys were preoccupied with something else entirely . . .

Then neither make a complaint.

-

“No. No. It’s almost as tall as _me_. There’s no way I’m letting you ride out in that.”

The snow didn’t stop. The snow kept going. And in the hours since he got here, between the cooking and the kissing and the kicking Lukas’ ass at old video games, it’s piled up threateningly high.

“I have to get home,” he says, shivering where he’s standing on the front step, not willing in the slightest to take another step forward. “Helen’s gonna flip.”

“You can’t ride your bike in the snow,” Lukas says, reaching out and grabbing Philip by the sleeve, yanking him back.

“Then I’ll walk.”

“You can’t walk. Just stay. Just stay?”

Philip clenches his jaw and looks out at the front yard, the dark sky dotted white, the pure and light fields of nothing but snow. He can’t stay. He wants to stay. But he can’t stay.

“Your dad will be home tomorrow,” he says, not looking back at him, not giving into the hand on his arm.

“Yeah, tomorrow _afternoon_ ,” Lukas pleads. “We have time.”

“They’re gonna come looking for me -”

“They’ll understand.”

He should say no, and walk out into the snow, and keep walking until it surrounds him.

If he stays, then he’s saying yes to so much more than just this. He’s admitting all his wants, and how much he wants those wants, and those wants might come true but only for tonight, only for right now, but then tomorrow will come and he’ll turn back into a nothing and everything he wants won’t matter.

He wants to be Lukas’, but not his secret.

“Just - come on,” Lukas tries again, his hand squeezing around him. “I don’t - I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

Philip bites over his lip and looks down at his feet. His feet that should be moving forward. His feet that stay still.

He spends the night, and then what happens?

What comes from this?

What does this make them?

He could say yes, and it will all still look and feel like a _no_.

Lukas begins to rub his thumb wherever it is on his arm, reaches out with the other hand to grab at his shirt, and whispers, “Please?”

Philip looks up finally, and grins. “You are such a sap.”

Lukas grins back, looking every bit delighted and relieved as he loops his arms around him.

“Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

-

There are no words said here.

No questions asked.

 _Yes_ and _no_ and _maybe_ are never once said.

Even if there were, if they were, it’d just be yes and yes and _yes_.

They barely even make it through the door before Lukas is slamming it closed and pressing him against it, hands firmly on his hips, lips pressed harshly against his.

It always shocks him, how forceful and possessive Lukas’ hands can be - they never touch in public, so maybe that’s why. Why Lukas puts everything he has into one single touch when that door is closed, when it’s just them and the walls.

Philip has his hands cradling the back of Lukas’ head, fingers in his hair, trying to chase his kiss while keeping his head down, so he can reach him perfectly.

“Do you want me?”

Philip keeps kissing him, keeps making noises, because he must have imagined that, there’s no way that Lukas asked that, not the way he made it sound, so low and desperate and needing. That couldn’t have happened, not to him, no.

It’s asked again, more insistently, the words whispered against his neck as Lukas nudges his nose against his jaw, seeking out every inch of his skin.

Once realization sets in, it pulls him out of this desire, has his head snapping back so fast he hits the door, staring at Lukas in a daze.

Lukas never stops, either not noticing that he’s just struck Philip across the head with his words, or taking his silence as answer. He runs a hand up under his shirt, the other hand sliding down, fingers inching their way under the waistband of his jeans.

Philip just stares.

“Philip?”

_Do you want me?_

What a dumb question.

Yet he answers it anyway, nodding hard and fast and all but jumping at Lukas, throwing his arms around his neck and pressing their lips back together, where they belong.

I want you in every colour, language and word.

Lukas smiles against his lips, and begins to walk them backwards to the bed, where Philip says it all.

I want you, I do, I want you, I do I do I do - and kisses him, kisses him all over, his cheek, his ear, his nose, his eyebrow, his cheek again and again and then back to his lips.

He lifts up his own shirt, not waiting for Lukas, wanting to show him and tell him with everything that he can that he wants him. Lukas’ hands are immediately on him, running up over his ribs, tracing a nipple, being cautious and slow, but curious and intrigued. Philip knows why.

Because he’s never allowed himself to look fully before.

And if he is now - then he must mean -

Philip raises his chin, and smiles, and offers more of himself to Lukas because he knows he’s wanted in return.

“Do you have that condom?” Lukas mumbles, lips open and wet against Philip’s neck, his hands making their way down the curve of Philip’s back.

Philip is staring off into space, reveling in how it feels to have his hands on him, the cold and slightly rough of his palms and fingers, so perfect where they are on him.

It’s a hard and heavy realization that - no, he doesn’t.

He doesn’t have that condom that Lukas had once batted away, had once hated, had once made Philip feel like they could _never_ with it.

“Uh, no. It’s - it was in the jacket.”

“Shit.” Lukas starts to sit up, not taking his hands off him but not putting them anywhere else.

“We don’t need it,” Philip says, trying for eager, leaning more into Lukas’ space, needing him back.

“What? Are you crazy?”

That bewildered and angry look in those eyes - it’s all screaming _no_ and _this was a mistake_ and _get out while you can -_

He doesn’t actually want _you_.

It always disappears so quickly, and suddenly Philip can’t remember why he thought that, why those thoughts ever crossed his mind when Lukas is still touching him.

He crawls into Lukas’ lap, swallowing nervously as he runs his hands up Lukas’ chest, settling them there. “I mean - we can do other things.”

Lukas strokes against the bare skin over his spine, soothing, calm, looking far less angry and scared now. “Like what?” he asks gently, nudging their noses together.

Philip doesn’t blush often, but for some reason he is now. He has to duck his head, look away, play with the hem of Lukas’ shirt and fumble for words.

“Uh,” he laughs uneasily, shutting his eyes. “I, uh -”

“You can tell me,” Lukas whispers, grabbing at Philip’s face, prompting him to look at him. “I’m not good at all this . . . I really don’t know.”

Philip, in Lukas’ hands, meeting Lukas’ smile, finally relaxes, and offers a smile back. “There’s not really a word for it . . . we can . .” He gives his hips the smallest experimental twitch, rutting the slightest bit forward. “Do that?”

Lukas’ grasp on him tightens, his face goes hard, his breathing cuts out.

“. . okay.”

He continues that slight rock of his hips, just barely rubbing against the boy beneath him, afraid to go too fast and scare him, afraid to take too much and have this all be over before it’s even started. He just wants - so much.

Being partially clothed, with Lukas watching him so intently, he feels a bit silly, rubbing himself along Lukas’ thigh, but it starts to feel too good to care.

“F-fuck, Philip,” Lukas groans, and puts both hands on his hips, quickly flipping them over until Philip’s on his back and Lukas is above him, between his legs, getting to work on ridding him of his pants.

The whole world is just Lukas. He has nothing else to do but lay there and touch him wherever he can reach and watch as Lukas takes him apart, piece by piece, starting with his jeans.

Philip lifts his ass for him, helping him out by kicking at his legs until Lukas can strip his pants off, laughing a little breathlessly from the struggle.

Then he’s just in his boxer briefs, and Lukas is fully clothed, and he feels so small and trapped and almost insignificant.

But Lukas’ eyes detest that, with the way they can’t stop looking, not pinning to any one place until they finally land on his crotch, where he’s so clearly hard and needing and wanting.

He’s not aware of how much he’s trembling until Lukas lays a steady hand on his belly, stilling him, then leans in and kisses him gently.

“You know I want you too, right?” Lukas asks, quiet and hushed against Philip’s lips.

He has no words, nothing to say, so he nods quickly and grabs for Lukas’ shirt, wanting him just as exposed and needy as he feels.

It’s so cold outside, and in this room, but he feels exceptionally hot when Lukas is finally as naked as him.

He pulls him closer until they’re slotted against each other, lined up, body parts all connecting, and when he rocks upwards, Lukas groans.

It’s the most heavenly sound, so harsh and jagged next to Philip’s ear.

He must be breathing quickly, he must be hyperventilating or something, because Lukas shuts him up with his lips, kissing him across his collarbone, his shoulders and arms and then his neck and then his temple and his nose and then finally his lips, oh god, his lips.

“Lukas,” he gasps, like a secret, when they brush together and it’s the scariest most direct touch in the entire world, and he just wants more of it.

Hearing his own name must encourage him, because Lukas doesn’t stop, he keeps going and digging his hips in deeper, dragging himself more directly over Philip, causing everything to spark and blow apart.

Despite the noises Philip knows he’s making, how desperate his hands are clawing up Lukas’ back, Lukas still looks up and gives Philip a questioning look, searching for reassurance.

“Yeah yeah -” he hisses, nodding, letting him know this is all right. It’s all so sensitive and too much, even through the layers of their boxers, but so right.

“You’re - so -” Lukas rasps out, dropping his forehead down to his, giving his hips another roll forward. “God, Philip.”

He keeps nodding, not sure why, and slides his fingertips underneath the band of Lukas’ boxers, pushing them down and down and down, surprised when Lukas doesn’t stop him.

They both look at each other, and it’s all so quiet but so loud, and it’s all so still but so fast, and so good and right and never bad or wrong.

So good, even when Lukas is leaning back on his heels to get a better view of Philip, inching his last remaining layer down and off his legs until he’s completely and entirely exposed for him.

So good even when Lukas’ cold hands are on him, and when they’re completely naked together.

“What do I do?” Lukas shudders out, breathing fast as he looks down between them, where the most wanted parts of them lay.

“What you were doing before,” Philip says gently, guiding a hand down Lukas’ back to prompt him forward. “Just like -” They slide against each other, the hot and slightly wet and direct touch of it all causing them both to gasp, both aching and hard and hot for _each other._ “- like that.”

Lukas seems scared at first, sliding forward slowly, hissing out his breath when their cocks touch again and Philip’s nails pinch into his back. They hold and look at each other like two cautious kids, so ridiculously in love.

Until it feels too good to go slow, or to be scared, and Philip is curling into Lukas and arching up and begging with his body for more. He’s right against him, right between his legs, making jolts and flicks and lightning streaks race through his body with every rough thrust forward.

The most intoxicating part of all of this is Lukas’ breath against his lips, heavy and hard and laboured. Or maybe it’s the way his eyes stay open, wide and looking, even when Philip has to close his eyes because he _can’t_ look.

His legs stay spread open and Lukas stays between them, holding them up and back and pressing forward for more and it’s the most wonderful feeling, despite the secret.

That he’s the only one who gets this, who gets him.

“Come on, Lukas, please, I can’t -” He’s babbling, begging, in a voice that isn’t his, it can’t be, so hoarse and rough and breaking.

Lukas nods and reaches down between them, wrapping a hand around both of them and fully and finally lining them up, no more slow hesitant passes, no more slow _anything_ , just fast jolts and thrusts and groans and pants and it almost hurts, but it doesn’t.

“Yeah, fuck -” Lukas exhales hot against his mouth, pressing the faintest of kisses against him as his hips go faster and as the drag gets hotter and it’s all building up into something that’s about to snap and combust and break forever.

“ _Please_.”

Why is he saying please what is he asking for -

It’s this.

He feels Lukas come before he hears it or sees it, before he even does himself, hot over his stomach, his breath even hotter in his ear.

Lukas - Lukas, with his hesitant and unknowing but demanding and strong hands, keeps going, despite the jerk and wave of his own body, working his wrist and twisting his hand, his only goal seeming to be Philip, and getting him to where he is -

He wasn’t aware how loud he was breathing, that he was very nearly crying, until that building wall breaks and topples over, and it all comes out, and he comes, and he cries, and it’s the most pitiful sound but it’s everything he wants and dreams about, all in one little gasp that’s lost into the cold air of the room.

Lukas drops to his body, panting against his chest, stuck together as they fight to breathe and come down from their high.

Philip is still trembling. Harder than before.

And even though his eyes look so tired and his body feels so weak on top of him, Lukas whimpers as he shifts himself up, so he can look down at Philip’s body, the mess across his stomach and the shaking of his legs.

“I - I - Philip -”

“Yeah.” He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say, because he already said everything he wanted. He reaches for Lukas, ignores the mess and the heat and the cold and pulls him up until they can be back together, close, closer. “Yeah.”

When they’re cleaned up and collected and under the covers, Philip brushes Lukas’ hair back from his forehead and says, “Hey, Lukas?”

It takes a few seconds, but those blue eyes are looking at him, and that shining smile is wide across his face. “Yeah?”

“You were gonna do it?” he asks, almost tentatively, toying with a long lock of blonde hair. “You were gonna - fuck me?”

His blood runs hot when the words leave his lips, his hands still on Lukas’ face.

Lukas immediately tenses, shuts his eyes and breathes out heavily, “Don’t say it like that.”

Instead of feeling hurt, Philip laughs and makes a face. “You were gonna make deep _passionate_ love to me then?”

Lukas laughs too and shoves at Philip’s chest, making an equally funny face.

But then it settles, and he smiles softly, reaching out to push Philip’s hair back too, waves completely wrecked by now.

“Yeah. I don’t think I’d be any good, but . . . I could try.”

It’s enough.

It’s not over.

There’s still more to be had and given and taken and shared. And if Lukas wants it, then Philip wants it.

He leans up to kiss the very corner of Lukas’ mouth, and whispers there, “I could say yes to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to this fandom and am so eager to write more for philkas, so if you have any prompts/tips/critiques please hit me up on my [tumblr](http://lukalip.tumblr.com/ask)! It's also [here](https://lukalip.tumblr.com/post/154174706421/i-really-cant-stay-philiplukas-nc-17) to reblog!
> 
> Also be sure to tell all your friends to watch Eyewitness on Sundays at 10PM on USA Network!! Read [this post](http://fallingintoaworldoflight.tumblr.com/post/154126956833/dear-eyewitness-fandom-the-good-news-is-that) and spread the word!


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